


woods are just trees (trees are just wood)

by reliquiaen



Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Gen, aka kids plus babysitter haha, but these are the main ones, other assorted clan members
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-03-08 17:18:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18899137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reliquiaen/pseuds/reliquiaen
Summary: pinkerlocke time! the reliquary's four lil kiddies are off to have an adventure! they believe it's all fun and make believe, just adventures they invent and imaginary villains conjured from their wild minds. but there's more to the lair than they've been told and some dangers... well. not all the trees are just wood, after all.





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> pinkerlocke with a few (not insubstantial) edits made to the rules. won't be writing every day, just a few times a month, max. the kids aren't gonna die, it's more of a dnd style thing where if they collapse in the coli they lose a character and have to start again. they also have to go home every evening like the good little hatchlings they are. low stakes for tiny drakes! genes and all that are applied via level, the challenges they face are determined by pinkerton as usual and even though ji qeng features he's more of an npc since he's already level 25 and can't really take part (four kids does not a team make, alas).
> 
> anyway, enjoy as these naive lil babies find out how the canyon REALLY works haha

Through the thin fog of near midnight, the docks that pull into view as the _Peripeteia_ rounds the last of the headland is not what Pyxis had been expecting. It’s a wide swath of beach and wooden walkways nestled between the walls of a canyon; lights glitter along the shoreline, most of the little spots concentrated up one end at the base of a giant rock tower.

Pyxis’ eyes almost fall out of his head as he leans over the railing; beside him, Wicked has clambered up as high as he can in the rigging as if leaning over the water still between them will get him to land faster.

“You better watch yourself,” says a voice behind them. Pyxis turns to see Blacklight striding towards them. She sparkles even now in the dead of night lit only by the glow of a single orange lamp. “If you fall in the water you’ll be just another snack for the local sea monster.”

Her voice is grave, but she’s smiling and there’s the tiniest little glimmer in her blue eyes that says she might be joking. Maybe. If they’re willing to risk finding out.

Wicked drops from the rigging and clutches his pearl to his chest.

“There’s no sea monster,” Wicked says, doing his best to put on a brave face, tilting his chin back obnoxiously.

Blacklight lowers her head to his level and blinks at them both. “Would you like to meet Ellander?”

“You _named_ the sea monster?” Wicked asks, tone completely disbelieving.

“No. That’s his name.” She stands back up then and smiles at them. “Kairos!” she calls across the deck and the large guardian who is the ship’s captain lifts her nose from where she’s talking to the grumpy wildclaw with the cool sword. “The kids don’t believe Ellander is real.”

Kairos smiles, but in a way that shows every last one of her big pointy teeth and is in no way reassuring at all. “Real as the ship keepin’ you afloat, kiddies,” she sing songs, her voice lilting with laughter. “You reckon you wanna meet him now or later?”

“Later,” Pyxis chirps before Wicked can say something stupid and get them both eaten.

The captain nods her head once sharply, the feather on her hat bobbing with the motion. “Smart lad.” She turns away then to bellow some instruction that’s too fast and too full of boat-words for Pyxis to really understand. Something about a mizzen or a boom or something?

Whatever. The grumpy wildclaw had gotten mad at Wicked for calling the stairs _stairs_ for gods’ sake. They are stairs, they look nothing like a ladder! And why do they need words for left and right? Are the words they already _have_ for left and right not good enough for boats?

Pyxis will be very glad to not have to talk about boats again.

(And this isn’t a boat, apparently, call it a ship or get thrown overboard. What’s the difference?)

He stares at the water as it ripples with the boat’s passing. It’s so _still_ everywhere else and the starlight reflects off it with such clarity they could be sailing across the night sky instead of ocean. And that’s just _fine_ until he spots something beneath the surface, a soft glimmering gold that catches the moonlight and bounces it back as it slithers through the water. The gold is broken up, patchy, so at first Pyxis just thinks it’s maybe a school of fish?

Well he thinks that until a great blue eye blinks at him.

He stumbles back, trips over his tail and lands on Wicked.

“Ah! What the hell!” Wicked squeals.

“There’s a monster!” he whispers, voice cracking with the urge to yell.

Wicked just stares at him, mouth open, fingers tightening on his pearl. Then he stands and waddles to the railing. Pyxis stands behind him, not brave enough to look again into an eye they size of his whole body, but Wicked doesn’t move, doesn’t scream or anything.

“You’re having a laugh,” he grumbles.

So Pyxis sticks his head out too. “No! I saw it!”

The only thing glittering from the waves now is the stars. No gold shimmering, no giant blue eye. Just stars.

“It was right there,” he mumbles.

Wicked gives him a Look™. “You’re letting Blacklight get to you. This lair isn’t as scary as she likes to say, I bet.” As he says that, he shuffles his pearl until it’s wedged between his hind feet and props himself up on the railing with his front paws. “It’s gonna be awesome.”

Through the gentle fog, as the boat slowly inches the last little way to the dock, something hulking and huge and shiny shifts along the beach. The lights from the lanterns catch gold against it, sometimes green, sometimes blue, but always softly glinting. A shiver runs down Pyxis’ spine at the possibility that the sea monster (that he _definitely did see_ ) could be on land too, waiting to eat them.

The grumpy wildclaw stomps past them to do something that looks important with the ropes and the _Peripeteia_ bumps softly against the dock as she sets snugly in place. Blacklight materialises again at their side, her wing shuffles almost protectively open just a bit as if to shield them from the bustle of the dragons and beastfolk about the deck finishing up last minute tasks before disembarking.

Kairos pauses with them as the last longneck trots off the boat and launches himself at a cluster of other longnecks gathered at the pier waiting for him. They head off chattering loudly, their words bouncing off the thin fog to echo eerily across the bay.

When Pyxis looks back at Kairos he’s surprised to see a fae perched atop her hat. The fae looks to be curled up and napping, so draped in feathers and tassels and beads that he completely misses whatever it is Kairos says to Blacklight.

It’s not until Kairos shoots them a last smile and wanders down the dock off into the fog that he realises Blacklight is speaking to them this time.

“Having second thoughts?” she teases and her smile is just as bright as her wings.

He shakes his head and follows a bounding Wicked off the boat and down the planks of the dock to the shore. Blacklight trails behind them, unhurried, her eyes searching through the darkness for something that neither of them can spot. Pyxis really hopes it’s not a sea monster.

So when the giant blue shape he’d seen earlier finally looms from the fog he just about shrieks. But the blue giant smiles at him, a soft mane of fur flopping into its face as it slowly lowers its head to fix him with an eye easily the size of him and Wicked together.

“Orphans?” the giant asks in a gentle, lilting voice.

Blacklight hums. “This one reminded me of Venin. They were a package deal.”

The giant’s eyes flick up to stare at Blacklight over his head. It speaks again but he’s too busy noticing a teeny little flowery shape nestled into the giant’s mane. It blinks warm brown eyes and its nose wiggles in the chill air. After a moment, the shape emerges from the fur a little further and Pyxis realises it’s a nocturne, probably not much older than either of them.

The giant’s nose tilts towards them and Pyxis takes a step backwards. “I’m called Seven,” the giant says (and Pyxis thinks it’s a strange name). “This is my son, Ji Qeng. Why don’t you give them the basics? Blacklight needs my help with her cargo.”

The nocturne – Ji Qeng – makes a chirping sound and bounces from her mane, wings flaring as he settles on the ground. “Who are you?” he asks in a sing-song voice, clearly mimicking his mother.

“I’m Wicked,” his friend blurts, eyes wide and round. “This is my bestest friend, Pyxis. Blacklight told us she lived in a lair that’s magical. Is that true?”

Ji Qeng nods almost solemn. “Oh yes. Mother is the one to give the warnings normally but I know them too! You mustn’t leave the docks. Not ever.”

“Why?” Pyxis wonders.

“It’s dangerous. The lair might decide it… doesn’t like you.”

Wicked scoffs at that, tosses his head so his ears flop and his mane ruffles. “A lair is just a place. It can’t decide anything.” He says it in a tone meant for imbeciles, Pyxis had heard him use it often enough with those newly joined their gutter society and ignorant of how the city slums work. To use it here – now – on this dragon seems… unwise.

He opens his mouth to say as much but Ji Qeng just shrugs. “Suit yourself. Once the warning is given we can’t stop you from exploring. But know this,” his voice lowers just a tad, still imitating someone probably but Pyxis can’t fathom who would have a voice so grave, “there are worse fates than death in this canyon.”

“That’s true no matter where you go,” Wicked tells him flatly. “What makes this so special?”

Ji Qeng rolls his eyes and flutters his wings as he shifts to lead them away, down the beach towards the rock with all the glowing lights. “Just don’t leave the docks. It’s better that way.”

“And if we do?” Pyxis asks. “What will happen to us?”

“That’s up to the lair. But you won’t be leaving.”

As they pass across the sands, Ji Qeng points things out to them. There the stalls where visitors can trade with residents; a little farther along is the Assembly, a tall stone pillar carved hollow for meetings and as a general gathering place. Just over there is the guard post, and right nearby it the dockmaster’s hut built on the boardwalk and leaning a little dangerously over the water. He indicates the markers denoting the border that, in crossing, takes them from the docks to the lair proper and away from the docks and the structures at the base of the canyon wall he tells them there are small passages that lead to other beaches, little private ones, should they wish to get away from the crowds.

“And that,” he says, resting back on his haunches as they stop outside the great glowing rock, “is the Lodge. I’m not sure what you can do there, maybe Blacklight will give you something? But it’s where visitors stay.”

“They won’t be staying here, thanks, Ji Qeng.”

All three of them jump and spin to find Blacklight behind them with the giant, Seven.

“We won’t be?” Pyxis isn’t sure what her tone carries, but the look she exchanges with Seven sets worry to gnawing in his stomach.

“Nope,” she tells him, smiling. “Come on. I’ll get you settled tonight and then in the morning you can meet Venin and Kieri. Maybe the rest of the council if we’re feeling bold.”

“And Saph!” Ji Qeng chimes in, beaming.

Blacklight nods at him. “And Saph,” she agrees. “Ji Qeng and Saph are the only kids in the clan.” Her eyes glitter as she lowers her head to look at them pointedly. “For now.”

She shuffles her wing out to guide them away from Ji Qeng and the Lodge but before they get very far Seven leans towards them. In a voice that’s probably a whisper for imperials but a loud bass rumble for anyone else she says, “Are you sure this is wise? Even over night it could be dangerous.”

“No reward without risk, Seven,” Blacklight tells her. “Plus… I have a good feeling. Even kids need a second chance sometimes.”

Wicked gives Pyxis another significant look and rolls his pearl tighter to his chest, snugging his net bag around it a little more firmly. Seven and Blacklight speak a little more but then the big imperial is motioning to Ji Qeng and their guide is urging them onward.

Pyxis eyes the markers that Ji Qeng had pointed out to them with trepidation but Wicked seems almost to be glaring at them, daring something to happen.

And when they cross that border, the only thing that Pyxis notices is the slight sense of unease that creeps between his ribs and sets his fur on end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls see this link for the prank blacklight pulls (aka the only reason she even brought these kids here): https://reliquiaenfr.tumblr.com/post/182676667988/blacklight-goes-off-to-rob-some-rich-folks-and


	2. baby steps

Saph has been in the canyon long enough by this point to know that the lair she and her sister had been adopted into is many things. First: it’s very, very big. Ralhu and Inerri, the denmother, had kept her pretty well confined to the nesting grounds but even that is large, there’s plenty of space for the kids – all of them – to play and learn without feeling like they were cramped living on top of each other. Sometimes Ralhu takes her down to the river or into Osprey’s gardens or occasionally even to the edge of the Greenwood, but even that is barely any amount of the canyon’s territory.

Secondly, the lair is very, very strange.

That’s it, those are the two things she knows about the lair. It’s big and strange.

She doesn’t know how to describe its strangeness, but she does know that Inerri looked at the two new boys Blacklight brought with scared, worried eyes when they arrived in the nesting spire. Saph’s not sure why, it’s obvious to her that there’s no reason to worry about the boys’ health and more reason to worry about what they get up to.

For instance: “I bet we could make a map of the canyon,” Wicked says to no one in particular one afternoon, hanging dangerously out one of the cave openings for someone who can’t fly properly yet.

“I bet if you try I’ll throw you in the Pit,” Inerri replies absently from whatever she’s doing up the other end of the den. She’s toneless, as always, but her frills quirk up a little in a way Saph is learning means worry. Even though she’s much too small to be throwing anybody anywhere, Saph has no doubt she could find a way.

Saph flutters off ledge she’d clambered up to for a nap and coils up by Pyxis’ sleeping form. “Ralhu says Aphid has a map of the clan.”

“She does,” Inerri agrees. “In the library. And Pencil’s not likely to let you get your grubby paws on it.”

Wicked flops dramatically onto the floor. “We’ll make our own then.”

“We?” Pyxis asks, evidently not asleep.

“ _We_. Yes.”

“Not until Ralhu gets here.”

As if her name is a summons, the pearlcatcher in question whooshes into the den in a jangle of pearl beads and the rustle of her leafy cloak. She tucks her wings against her side and beams at them, saving the last and widest smile for Saph as she bounds over and uses Ralhu’s cloak as purchase to clamber up and wind around her sister’s neck, scarf-like.

“Good to see you,” she laughs. “Now, how about we get out of Inerri’s frills and go find something to do with our afternoon?”

Saph opens her mouth to ask if they can go sit in the meadow and listen to a story, but Wicked rudely interrupts her. “Adventure!” he crows, already leaping in wing-spread half-hops to the edge of the cavern. “Time to go exploring! Pyxis! Bring your paints, we’ll make a map!”

Ralhu rolls her eyes and shares a cheeky smile with Saph. “Does everything he says have to be an exclamation?”

“He sure thinks so.”

Her tail sweeps out to nudge him back from the ledge before he can tumble out. “How about we go for a walk, find something to eat, and _then_ discuss an adventure?”

Wicked makes a show of thinking that through seriously but Pyxis shuffles up beside him, little satchel slung around his shoulders, and says, “Lunch sounds good to me.”

And of course, Wicked agrees with that. The two of them really are trouble. Saph wishes (not for the first time, and probably not for the last) that Ji Qeng would hang out with them more, maybe then she wouldn’t be out-voted all the time. Or even Dribble maybe? Anyway, it’d be nice to have another kid to hang out with, perhaps another girl. Boys are so… boyish.

(Although it may just be Wicked who gives her that impression, Pyxis would be fine if he didn’t always agree with him.)

At least she has her sister.

Ralhu doesn’t let Wicked jump, instead she guides the two boys down the ramp carved inside the pillar. Only one flight, hatchlings aren’t allowed much higher until they can fly; too much chance for accidents. Wicked grumbles the whole way about how much he hates the ramp, that it’s for children, he can’t wait to fly. Then no one could keep him cooped up here and he could go explore the lair whenever he wanted.

Saph quietly thinks to herself that his belief that there’s nothing out of the ordinary about the lair and his determination to prove as much might just get him into a spot of trouble eventually. The way Ralhu rolls her eyes at him once again suggests that she agrees.

When they hit the bottom and the trees of the lair turn the sunlight green, Pyxis grows just a smidge more lively, joining Wicked in pushing the bounds of Ralhu’s patience immediately. They start to trot off towards the nearest trees, clearly wondering if she’ll follow, let them lead. She doesn’t; her longer legs catch her up in only a few strides and she uses her tail to corral and point them in the direction she wants.

Wicked grumbles some more, but Pyxis takes it in stride, almost Saph could believe this was the way he intended to go all along.

“Why are you like this, Ralhu,” Wicked whines as they walk, his tail drooping so the furred tuft gets all dirty. “We leave the dungeon and you still insist on boring things.”

“You don’t know what I’m insisting on.”

He continues to grouch, mostly nonsense Saph can’t hear very well, but when they emerge through the trees on the edge of Osprey’s fields he changes his tune.

“Oh. Well…” he blinks back over his shoulder and offers a cheeky grin. “Maybe we can adventure after lunch then.”

Normally, Osprey will have some food parcels delivered to the nesting grounds for them each day, there’s never a shortage of food for everyone thanks to him, but today it seems Ralhu had the forethought to request he delay that until they arrived. She wiggles free of Ralhu’s neck as they approach, because it’s much nicer to eat outside and she stretches her long body to soak up as much of it as possible.

The sunlight catches on her scales, lighting them up in that way she’s never seen on anyone else; all glowy and moderately translucent so that through her shimmering oilslick-pink scales there is just faintly visible a ghostly skeleton. It looks trapped in the pseudo-amber of her skin and scales, as if it rests not where a skeleton should be, deep in the body beneath layers of fat and muscle, but a claw’s breadth below the surface, such that any injury more than superficial should reveal a second off-white - almost purplish - set of bones.

It won’t, of course (that’s what Ralhu has always said, her skeleton is not weirdly magnified by anything so it appears closer to the surface than it is, how ridiculous), but it’s the strangest illusion. Or so she’s been told, anyway. Saph has long wondered if her real bones are the same near-purple colour or if they’re a more standard colour. Not that she’s ever been brave enough to try and find out.

But she’s not the weirdest thing in the canyon, not by a long shot, so even the possibility of an unusually distorted skeleton or magically see-through scales and flesh isn’t beyond the realm of probability. Not here. Not when plants eat whole dragons and take over their bodies. Not when everyone thinks she _controls time_. 

It’s all ridiculous. But her time here has taught her that nearly anything - anything at all - is possible.

Anything, perhaps, except keeping Wicked from being rambunctious and unruly.

He bounds across the grassy clearing that marks the border between places for foot-traffic and his gardens – the gardens he’s very careful to make sure hatchlings don’t trample, hence the clearing. Osprey has a trestle table set up with a spread of assorted foods and Wicked barely waits to greet him before he’s got his forepaws up on the wood nosing at the wrappings and fruits.

“Manners,” Osprey says, not unkindly, but firmly enough to make it perfectly clear he won’t tolerate funny business. It’s an unusual tone to hear from him, he’s a very relaxed dragon, Saph knows, his warnings are gentler and his stories filled with soft, happy things. Saph likes his stories.

“Hello, Osprey.” Pyxis is quiet when he speaks, polite. But when Osprey turns his gaze to look at the little dragon, Wicked takes the opportunity to snatch something from the table. It’s only Ralhu’s intervention that prevents him from actually eating it.

“Nice to see you too, Pyxis,” Osprey replies, smiling. “Glad to know Inerri’s instruction is paying off for at least one of you.”

Wicked very obviously ignores that comment, opting instead to lean up towards the food again. “Can we eat now?”

“Will you tell us a story with lunch?” Saph asks over-top of him.

Osprey lifts a claw to scratch under the brim of his hat as he blinks slowly from Wicked to Saph to Ralhu and back again. “I guess so.” He hooks a claw into the knot of a wrapped parcel and moves around the table. “I had to deliver this, but…”

“I’ll take it, Oh,” Ralhu says, saving him from having to come up with something. “To Aphid, yeah?”

“Yes.” He blinks his big eyes at her before smiling. “Thank you.”

Now, the thing is, about Osprey: he’s a romantic right down to his little white paw pads, filled to his fins with wonderful ideas about knights and princes and heroes and epic tales. This does not, however, mean he’s any good at telling them.

They help him cart the food a little ways from the table so they’re sitting in dappled light and he uses his thick tail to sweep away imagined pebbles before they curl up to eat.

And he begins with: “So Tahvi told me part of this story when she got back from the Hewn City.”

(To herself, Saph thinks that’s a little bit worrying. If it’s just _part_ does that mean he won’t finish?)

“There is a clan there with strange rituals and customs,” he tells them, matter-of-factly (he has no instinct for setting tone). “Chiefly among them: they do not trade with outsiders. Nothing of theirs is to leave the little town they live in.”

“Whassa town?” Wicked asks around a mouthful of some kind of giant grub.

Osprey blinks at him placidly, chewing something slowly.

Pyxis answers: “Like the city we grew up in only smaller.”

“Huh.”

“Yes. Only, many visitors don’t know this and naturally go looking for somewhere to find provisions – food and such. If they _do_ find something to eat, they are told not to. And if they ignore those warnings and eat the food, they mustn’t ever leave the town.”

“Why?”

Osprey shrugs a shoulder. “Tahvi doesn’t know. Couldn’t find out. Apparently, dragons who go there have a nasty habit of disappearing. She thinks there’s an Emperor under the town, I find that hard to believe, they are frightfully difficult to contain, but she does like the dramatic.”

Wicked rolls his eyes. “Not much of a story.”

“Maybe. You never wonder if the food we feed you puts binds on your soul?”

Pyxis stops eating slowly, brows furrowing thoughtfully. Wicked looks up but crunches on a bug almost defiantly. “Gotta believe in souls for that,” he says.

Osprey just laughs. “Perhaps talk a little more with Ji Qeng. Then we’ll see how you feel.” He looks up at Saph and asks, “What about you?”

She swallows, thinks, speaks carefully, “Inerri says if the canyon doesn’t like you, it sucks out your magic and uses your body as a guardian. I think… if it can do that, then there has to be something to take.”

“She says that to keep us from wandering off.”

“You could just say it kills folks,” Pyxis says softly. “But… it’s just land. Dirt and rocks and trees. They don’t have will. A canyon can’t kill you.”

Osprey stands, arching a brow, his frills shiver with silent laughter. “Can’t it?”

As he walks away a shiver runs down Saph’s spine. He’s never been good at creating an atmosphere for stories, but the calm delivery of such an ominous question… She looks around at the trees and wonders if they just _feel_ closer because of what Osprey said or if they’ve actually moved.

Two little lights blink on in the dark underbrush and she wriggles into an awkward standing position. The boys look around too, surprised by her jerky movement, but when she says, “There are _eyes_ ,” and they fix their attention on the tree line, the lights are already gone.

Wicked laughs at her, but a rustle makes him start more than either of the others; he jumps nearly a half foot in the air.

And when it’s just Ralhu returning from the library they all heave deep sighs. She smiles crookedly and asks in her teasing tone why they all look so jumpy. When they stumble over each other with excuses her shoulders lift in her amusement.

She doesn’t even question when they insist on going to the beach instead of making maps.

 

**Author's Note:**

> pls see this link for the prank blacklight pulls (aka the only reason she even brought these kids here): https://reliquiaenfr.tumblr.com/post/182676667988/blacklight-goes-off-to-rob-some-rich-folks-and


End file.
